Indebted to the Mafia King
Perfect

Eleni

Over my clothes, under the blankets, Dante cups me like I'm made of glass. My thin shirt can't disguise the warmth of his skin, and though my whole body still aches, I want to tell him to treat me like normal. He thumbs over my nipple, and I arch up, tilting my head back toward the ceiling. In my mind's eye, I see the crack I tracked during the endless hours of my capture.

I shut my eyes. "Fuck me like you would if we were there."

"Quietly?" Dante's voice holds the ghost of a smile. "We have a lot of children and Mama not to wake up."

I picture a whitewashed house in Greece, next to the restaurant rather than on top of it, with a cozy front garden covered in plastic kids toys, far enough outside the city that I can commute and far enough away that the air tastes clean. A small grove of olive trees in the back where we picnic. I can almost taste the salt of the sea, just like Mama always described from home. In the darkness, it's easy to pretend we're already there. "Yes," I murmur.

Dante's warm hand covers my mouth. He bends down to my ear. "Hush, love. I know we just moved the baby into the room next door, but the walls are thin."

I shudder, and warmth blooms in me like a flower. Our third baby, I decide. A boy after our twin girls. I nod against Dante's palm. The moon shining in through the window catches the edge of his smirk as he shimmies down the bed to press soft kisses to the skin of my neck.

"No marks," I hiss when he bites. "You know how Mama gets."

His laugh rumbles through my body. I relax into it. I'm home. Not just my home, my family's home. And we're all safe, at least for tonight.

Dante skims his hand up under my shirt, dancing around the thick bandage on my ribs. A cooking incident. I ran into a pan one of the girls forgot to turn in. He cups my breast, and the importance of the details fades. His thumb teases my nipple to attention in a few quick swipes. I pant against his hand on my mouth, harsh in the quiet night air. He stares at me for a few moments.

"You're so beautiful," he says.

"Even after the babies?" I ask through his makeshift gag.

"Even more so." He releases my mouth to pull my shirt up, over my shoulders, and presses the wad of fabric against my teeth. "Now shush."

I bite down on the cotton as he lowers his mouth to my chest. Here, he can leave as many marks as he wants, and he does, in spiraling patterns. I arch into him and let the T-shirt muffle my moans.

Dante takes his time with me, lingering on my breasts until I can feel the beginning of an orgasm curling my toes from that alone. Just as overstimulation threatens, he shoves the covers aside and yanks my panties down my legs. I don't need to look to know I'm completely bare before him now, hiding nothing in the soft moonlight. I don't need to check his face to see what he's thinking. I know him as well as I know myself by now.

Dante drags a line of kisses down my chest, along the length of my leg to my knee, and then back up the other side. I roll my hips, begging silently for attention where I need it. He presses his mouth ever so briefly on the hood of my clit, then rests his chin on my thigh.

"Are you sure?" he asks with a teasing smile. "I know you have your big meeting in the morning."

I very nearly spit out the gag to yell at him. Like he can see the thought on my face, his eyes darken with command.

"Fine," he says. "But we do this my way. Hands above your head, hold onto the bed. You let go or release the gag, I'll make sure the kids have a sleepover with the ill-behaved neighbor kids soon so I can give you the punishment you deserve." My whole body flushes. I reach my hands up and grab the heavy wood posts of the headboard, then sink my teeth into the soaked cotton of the T-shirt. Dante palms one of my breasts before diving between my legs.

The first press of his tongue is like heaven. I've missed him painfully. He drags a line of wet heat along me, and I rock onto his mouth. Holding onto the bed instead of grabbing his hair burns, but my orgasm careens forward anyway. I love him so much I might explode.

He fucks two fingers into me, and I crash over the edge, trembling. Dante doesn't stop. He knows exactly what I can take. My second orgasm blends into the first, the shirt in my mouth valiantly trying to muffle my increasingly desperate noises. Dante laps up everything I have to give, and when he pulls back on the cusp of my third, the lower half of his face shines in the moonlight.

"Very good." He kisses my thigh and smiles. "Can you take more?"

I nod furiously. I could take a thousand orgasms if he wanted to give them to me.

"No, El." He ghosts a hand over my currently flat stomach, then grinds his stiff cock against my leg. "I mean more. Four kids sounds nice, doesn't it?"

A dam breaks in me, and hot tears pour from my eyes. Four kids sounds so ridiculously, beautifully goddamn nice. Four safe children, with his eyes or his hair or his way of commanding a room.

In a moment, Dante is back at the head of the bed with me, wiping my tears and trying to pry the gag from my mouth, but I can't let it go.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "Too far?"

I shake my head and finally convince my aching jaw to release the fabric. "No. Too perfect. I want it, Dante."

He smiles, but behind it I can see the same raw hunger consuming me. Dante wants four safe children.

"Some day." He kisses me.

I lean up into the kiss, catching his lower lip between my teeth.

"Tonight," I say seriously. "I want it tonight. Please."

He swallows and offers me the gag once more. "Tonight."

I accept the soaked T-shirt like a charm. Tonight, I'm Eleni Cattaneo, mother. Dante reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, and I release the headboard to grab his wrist. He looks at me for a long second, then smiles. "Of course." He kisses the tip of my nose. "A condom won't help us tonight. But you did let go, so you'll be in trouble soon."

I laugh through the gag as he moves my hand back to the headboard. I can take anything he throws at me. After four children, even his harshest paddling doesn't hurt like it used to.

"Don't make fun of me." He sheds his boxers and takes his cock in hand. "I can always change my mind."

I shake my head furiously. I need him to fuck me.

"That's what I thought." He lines up with my entrance.

The sweet, bare friction of him almost makes me cry again from the sheer pleasure. Dante cups my face as he slides slowly home. He is beautiful too. I hope he finally knows it.

He fucks me slowly, inexorably, tracing circles over my clit in time with every thrust. He's dragging it out, gathering up the threads of my old orgasms and tying them into something spectacular. Warmth burns through me. I roll my hips against

his, trying to coax him a little faster. Of course, he ignores me. Dante's dark gaze roves over my body, taking in every detail like he's worried he'll forget something. But he doesn't have to worry. We have forever to do this.

After long minutes, he murmurs, "Come for me, El."

We slide over the edge in unison, like slipping into a pool of warm water, brilliant and perfect and everything I wanted.